


Ravishment

by thebermuda



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, they get kinda rough for a change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebermuda/pseuds/thebermuda
Summary: Severin and Richard have been together for ten years before Severin agrees to perform Richard's darkest fantasy.





	Ravishment

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to therecognitionscene for her inspiration and feedback!

“Come out here, little boy,” comes Severin’s voice, deep and simmering like a predator’s. This is how a wild cat sounds just before he makes the kill. 

Richard’s heart pounds in his ribcage. He presses himself against the wall behind the door and pulls down at his chiffon and lace babydoll, which only just reaches his thigh. Severin threw him over the sofa in the living room earlier and tore off a strap, so it hangs off his left shoulder, revealing the pink of his nipple. 

“I don’t like it when little boys hide from me.” Severin’s voice gets louder as he makes his way down the hall. “If you won’t come out, I will find you, and I will be _angry.”_

Richard cries out. He quickly throws his hand over his mouth, but it’s too late: Severin barges into the bedroom and slams the door shut, locking it. Richard tries to run, but Severin grabs him with one arm and shoves him toward the wall. 

“Bad boy,” Severin whispers. 

Richard pushes at his broad chest, but Severin doesn’t budge. He scoops Richard’s wrists into one hand and pins them against the wall above Richard’s head. With his other hand, he cups Richard’s chin, forcing Richard to look up at him. 

His thumb traces along Richard’s bottom lip, and his eyes are blue, fiercely blue, and blazing. He leans in, and Richard feels his hot breath on Richard’s skin, until Severin’s lips just barely graze the lobe of Richard’s ear. 

“Safe word?” he whispers. 

Richard tries to stifle his smile, not wanting to break character, but he can’t help it. A big part of him wants to pull Severin close and kiss him now, thank him for making this all so perfect. But this might be the only time Severin ever agrees to do something like this, and that would ruin it. 

“Green,” he whispers back. 

Severin straightens up immediately, his grasp on Richard’s chin tightening. His finger pads are rough and calloused against Richard’s freshly shaven skin. 

“Don’t you _dare_ pout at me like that, little boy,” he growls, upper lip twitching, his eyes back to blazing. 

“My name,” Richard sulks, “is Richie, and I _will_ call the police on you.” 

“Richie,” Severin croons, and Richard shivers like clockwork. “Tell me: Where are you getting a phone? You’re trapped here.” 

He grabs Richard’s neck and hauls him away from the wall. 

Richard’s cock goes rock hard in anticipation of his favorite part of this, one of only bits he’d specifically requested. Severin drags him toward the bed, and Richard struggles, grabbing onto Severin’s forearm. 

“Let - me - go!” he pants. 

Severin chuckles, and it sounds genuine. He watches Richard writhe and tug for a moment, before pulling Richard’s hands off his arm and scooping him up by the torso. 

He swings Richard over his shoulder, smacking a light hand over Richard’s ass, which is half-exposed by his lace panties. 

“Put me down,” Richard whines. 

“Shut up,” Severin says, and he throws Richard onto the bed. 

_Yes, yes, yes,_ every part of Richard _sings_ with the pleasure of it. He’s completely helpless as his head lands on a pillow, and Severin immediately towers over him. He flips Richard over and catches Richard’s ankles in his hands. 

Richard tries to kick, but it’s no use. 

“I already told you,” Severin says again. “I am going to _fuck_ you, and you are going to enjoy it. I won’t let you go until you confess to me,” he wrenches Richard’s legs apart, “how much you love this.” 

“I won’t!” Richard cries. 

“I don’t care if I have to keep you locked up for days. Weeks,” he breathes. “I’ll fuck you every day if I have to, _prisoner.”_

Richard bites into the sheets to cover up his moan. Severin’s prisoner. That’s a nice little addition. Richard didn’t ask for that. 

Which means Severin is starting to enjoy his role. 

Richard releases a stream of protests, all of which Severin ignores in favor of straddling Richard’s legs, keeping him trapped. 

“I’m punishing you for running away from me,” Severin says. “If you struggle, I’ll hurt you.” 

Richard immediately starts squirming. 

_“Stay. Still.”_ Severin’s palm comes down hard on Richard’s ass, and he cries out. He forgets to struggle, just for a moment, and Severin takes advantage of the opportunity. He grabs at the hemline of Richard’s panties and yanks, tearing them down their seam in the center. 

Usually, when Severin finally gets to Richard’s ass after ages of foreplay, he takes his time, running his fingers lightly up and down Richard’s crack, squeezing his cheeks and indulging in their plumpness. 

Now, however, Severin is fast and careless. He slaps Richard’s ass, once, twice, thrice, again and again. 

“Oh - oh - please!” Richard sobs into his pillow, clawing at the sheets. “Please, you’re so rough!” 

Severin stops immediately. 

“Safe word?” he asks softly. 

“Green, green, _green.”_ Richard says it like he’s begging, and he’s well-rewarded: Severin recommences the abuse, which sends sparks up Richard’s spine, makes his body writhe with pleasure-pain. 

The weight on Richard’s legs disappears as Severin shifts onto his knees. He flips Richard over, and before Richard can reorient himself, he’s slapped across the face. 

Severin cups his chin again, looming over him, his lips stretched into a rictus. 

“Do you love this, slave?” 

“You’re horrible,” Richard whimpers. 

His eyes widen as a hand wraps around his throat. His heart stammers; they hadn’t discussed choking. 

But Severin only leaves it there, the threatening pressure of it. His other hand explores Richard’s babydoll, pulling carelessly at its only remaining strap, fingering the holes of the lace. Richard moans when Severin thumbs across his nipple, and then Severin straightens up, roaring in abrupt frustration. 

Richard gasps and takes Severin’s wrist instinctively, but Severin shoves his hand aside. He grabs at Richard’s babydoll and wrenches, and the thin material rips haphazardly. 

Looking down at his own, mostly-naked body, covered only with spare tatters of lace, Richard unthinkingly reaches for Severin’s belt buckle. It’s just old habit. 

Severin catches his wrists again and says, “What do you think you’re doing, slave?” 

Richard only looks up at him, infusing as much sulkiness into his expression as possible. 

“On your stomach,” Severin commands. 

Richard stares. 

“Do I have to do everything myself?” Severin grabs him and turns him around, shoving his face into the bed. 

“Mm - Severin - !” 

“Stop wiggling your little ass at me,” Severin says, and spanks him so hard he’s sure there’s a traceable handprint on his cheek. 

He’s straddled, forced to immobility, while he hears Severin unbuckling his belt. Then his arms are yanked back, wrists locked together, and the leather of the belt, warm from Severin’s body heat, is wrapped around his skin. Severin double loops the belt and secures it, just a bit tighter than it needs to be. 

Richard feels powerless and exposed. Tears stream down his cheeks, and he sniffles into the pillowcase. 

“Stop crying,” Severin orders, which makes him sob out. 

“You’re being so mean…” Richard whines. 

“Mm, and I’m about to get meaner.” 

Severin grabs his hips and forces them up, so that Richie is on his knees, forehead pressed against the pillow and ass in the air. He spreads Richard’s cheeks, and just as Richard is adjusting to the resulting vulnerability - a vulnerability he hasn’t felt with Severin in years - Severin spits directly on his hole. 

His fingers explore Richard’s crack, and then there’s the sound of a bottle cap being opened. An index finger, cold and smooth and insistent, taps at his sensitive pucker, and he moans. 

“Please don’t do this, sir!” he snivels. “Please, you’re humiliating me…”

“I’m _sir_ now, am I?” mocks Severin. “That’s not how you were addressing me when you were running away.” 

His finger circles Richard’s entrance before pressing, and Richard groans at that first admittance, surprised by how easily his body invites Severin in. His cock throbs, rubbing up against his tummy, and he suddenly remembers that Severin is entirely dressed. He feels a small thrill. 

Severin’s fingers are so much rougher and thicker than Richard’s own, and Richard is mumbling nonsensically as Severin begins to explore him. 

“What’s that?” Severin sounds amused. 

“Uh-uh,” Richard moans helplessly. 

“It sounds like you’re a little dazed, baby boy. Are you ready to confess that you love this?” 

“No!” Richard says, and Severin plunges a second finger into him. 

_Oh, fuuuck._ Richard pulls at his restraints, wanting to lodge his wrist into his mouth to stop himself from keening. Severin responds by yanking a fistful of Richard’s hair with his free hand and then shoving his face further into the pillow. 

“You sound like a happy little slave,” he says, and then, like he knew where it was all along and had only wanted to tease, he taps directly against Richard’s prostate. 

Richard’s entire body goes rigid, and then relaxes all at once. He forgets his arms, tied tight behind his back, forgets the soreness of his scalp or the heat on his cheek from where Severin had slapped him. There’s nothing except for a delicious, loose floatiness, just the strange, inaccessible pleasure of _there._

_I love you,_ Richard almost says it, almost forgets the game, but stops himself just before the words leave his lips. 

Then Severin slips a third finger in, and everything melts back into bliss. There’s a warm liquid sliding down his tummy, and that’s come, his come. 

Severin twists his fingers, and Richard groans. Severin starts up a rhythm, pumping against his prostate. 

“Uh - uh - uh - !” Richard yelps with each fresh pulse of pleasure, the come quickly pooling onto the sheets. 

“There we go,” Severin says, although Richard isn’t sure what he was looking for. Then he pulls all his fingers out at once, and Richard nearly screams. 

“No, no, please, please - ” 

“Don’t want me to stop?” Severin says. 

“Need - need - no!” Richard drives his thumbs into the bed, biting his bottom lip in an effort to focus. “Stop, _stop.”_

Severin only chuckles and unzips his pants. He pulls them down, and then the head of his cock is pressing against Richard’s hole, a welcome pressure. 

“Safe w - ” Severin begins. 

Richard shoves his ass upwards. It doesn’t work, quite, but it gets the point across: Severin quickly enters him, and Richard groans at the pressure. 

“I’m…” Severin fumbles, manages to release the belt, “going to...make you...beg for it…”

Once Richard’s arms are free, Severin presses Richard’s back to his chest, peppering kisses all along Richard’s shoulders and neck. 

“Uh...uh…” Richard manages to protest. 

This fuels Severin on, and he pounds into him, taking Richard’s hips in his hands and thrusting with newfound aggression. He grabs Richard’s hair, and it’s too much, it burns. Richard’s crying again, shaking his head against the sheets, writhing underneath him. Severin only drives his cock in harder, until Richard is quaking with the hard, fast _goodness_ of it. 

Severin bites down on his shoulder blade. 

“Little slave,” he hisses. 

“Uhnn…” 

“Tell me,” he thrusts, “how much you like it.” 

Something releases in Richard; an atavistic and cathartic flood. His cock twitches untouched until it’s spilling come, ropes of it, and out of his mouth gushes words he won’t remember a minute later: “Oh, please, please, fuck, Severin, God, _I love you,_ fuck me, please, please, please, I’m your slave, I’m your slave, I’m your slave, Rinny, _please…”_

Severin grunts on top of him, and Richard, somewhere in the back of his overwhelmed mind, knows the exact moment he comes: His hands tighten around Richard’s shoulders, and he thrusts in hard, filling Richie’s hole. 

When he pulls out, hot come trickles down Richard’s thigh, and Richard’s hole momentarily quivers like it’s asking to be filled again. 

Then Richard collapses against the bed, unable to keep his eyes open. 

He expects Severin to scoop him up in his arms immediately. When he doesn’t, Richard peeks. 

Severin’s sitting, looking down at himself. 

“Why the fuck am I wearing a shirt?” he asks. 

He meets Richard’s eyes, and they burst into laughter. 

* * * *

Severin’s worst fear had been that, the moment after he came, he’d find Richard crying and telling him the roleplay idea had all been a terrible mistake, or - worse - Severin had executed it incorrectly. He’d scared Richard, hurt his feelings, hurt his body… There were so many horrible ways it could go wrong, and it had never seemed worth the risk, despite Richard’s many years of begging for it. 

“Why the fuck am I wearing a shirt?” he asks when it’s all over, and the smile on Richard’s face, just before he dissolves into his sweet, beautiful giggles, is enough to assuage all of Severin’s anxieties. 

Severin gets off the bed and makes quick work of undressing. Then he gets back onto it and pulls Richard close to him. They kiss for what feels like ages, long and soft and wet. Richard’s big eyes are so gorgeous, the brown of melting chocolate, full of a simple happiness. 

“I love you,” Severin says simply once they pull away. 

Richard nuzzles his chest and yawns. “I love you too, Rin-Rin.” 

Severin’s name gets progressively more butchered the more tired Richard gets. He loves Richie’s sleepy derivations. 

“Go to sleep, little one,” Severin says softly, kissing Richard’s hair. “I’ll be here to clean you up when you wake up.” 

Richard nods tiredly, eyes closing. Severin reaches out and pulls the duvet over them both, breathing in the scent of detergent and fresh sex. Just as Richie’s breathing starts to even out, he peeps up, “Seh’rin?” 

“Hm?” 

“Next time,” Richard tucks his head into the nook of Severin’s underarm, “can you slap me harder?” 

Severin’s eyes widen. _Next time?_

He doesn’t voice the thought, though, because his love is already asleep. 


End file.
